


" Flowers "

by sleepyranboo



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Older Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyranboo/pseuds/sleepyranboo
Summary: Ranboo thinks, sat in front of the headstone of someone he called his big brother.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 150





	" Flowers "

**Author's Note:**

> cw !! major character death, descriptions of blood, grief
> 
> This takes place in the universe of the SMP with their SMP characters!! If those involved state they are uncomfortable with this type of work I will remove this book immediately!

My bouquet of flowers lay still on the mound of unfamiliar dirt. Their hue was the most vibrant shade I’ve laid my eyes on, their pink shades burning holes through my skull as I stared down at them. Those petals held all my sorrow, as I plucked them from the ground with the same hands that have done nothing but hurt. My eyes refused to stray from those flowers, knowing that when I break my gaze, I will be forced to go on; to continue my everyday life as if a huge piece isn’t missing. With me, I will have to carry the guilt of knowing that it was me who caused your death. 

“I’m sorry.” The sound of my voice sends a shiver down my spine. It doesn’t sound like me in the slightest. It’s fractured, not an ounce of hope left, not even a bit. I allow myself to sink to the ground, my knees far too frail to carry the guilt. Regret and agony weighted down on my soul, clouding my thoughts with nothing but you and your passing. 

My hand began to move on its own, finding the way to the top of your headstone. The cold surface pushed into my palm, reminding me of how your hand had felt on my cheek. I remember that it was ice-cold, yet grounding, smudging the guck and blood from your fingertips onto my cheeks as I cried. I remember how much it burned. My skin was sizzling, scars forming under the tears and wet muck, but I knew I could bear the pain. I deserved it, after all.

Your voice was so hushed yet so broken as those awful words left your mouth. That this was your final life, and you’d be gone before I knew it. Nothing could compare to the pain that I felt at that moment. Time stopped, those surrounding us fading from my vision. It was just you and I. A broken wail came crawling from deep within my soul, ripping itself through my lungs and setting them ablaze. I focused on your dirtied hand on my cheek, still attempting to understand that you’d be gone soon. I’ll never forget the way your light pink irises gazed into mine, your gaze softening as the fighting spirit drained from your eyes. Fresh blood was seeping into the fabric of my dress pants, as my knees were rested beside your body as it bled. Time ticked by, your hand gradually slipping from my cheek as your life drained to the muddy ground below. And those final words you said to me, whispered to me as your hand fell from my cheek, are the words I’ll never, ever forget. 

“I love you.” 

It was the first time you told me that, as well as the last. My shock at your words stopped me from speaking, not realizing that you were already gone. I was too late, never able to tell you that I loved you too. That you were the first person to make me believe I was normal. You cared for me like no other before you, just like an older brother would. Just then, it hit me how much I would miss you. An agonizing sob shook my soul, unable to move from where I was rested beside your lifeless form. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my back, Tubbo’s hushed voice cutting through my grief-stricken haze. He held me tight as I cried, releasing all of my woes as heavy tears into his olive button-up. 

I don’t remember when the tears started again, small cries like that of a baby animal coming from somewhere deep within me. Managing to tear my gaze from the flowers I brought for you, I redirected my gaze to your headstone. 

_ “Rest in peace, _

_ A warrior, an anarchist, and a loving son and brother _

_ -Technoblade”  _

When Phil carved the word ‘brother’ into your headstone, he whispered something to me. He said that I was the best thing that ever happened to you, as you had said so yourself. That I gave you something to fight for, someone to look after, someone to teach, someone who understood you, and someone you could call your little brother. 

I cried into Phil’s kimono that day, never able to tell you that I felt the same; and that no matter how much time ticked by or how much I change, no one will mean as much to me as you do. 

A pair of footsteps yanked me from my thoughts, Phil coming into view as he stood beside me. Without a word, he sunk to the ground with his arms open wide. 

The two of us sat by your headstone, clinging to each other as we cried. I don’t know how many times I’ve cried since you passed, yet I don’t wish to know. All I know is that I miss you, and I always will. I’ll miss my big brother. The one who took me on adventures to the nether as we scoured for loot. The one that taught me to fight, giving me tips as we fought. The one who helped me understand the voice in my head and how to ignore it. The big brother who died to protect me from the very egg that I created.

“P-Phil…” I no longer cared about how broken my voice was, face buried into Phil’s secure shoulder. “I...I-I...I w-want my b-brother back…I-I m-iss him...” Phil chuckled through his tears, his arms tightening around me. 

“I-I miss him too, R-Ranboo…” 


End file.
